


Insight and Reasons (Fic Prompts from Tumblr)

by Lazchan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-01-25 15:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12534532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: Ficlets that were inspired from various prompts on Tumblr.





	1. What's in a Name (Things You Say Through Your Teeth)

“Is is just me, or is Yuri glaring at me more than usual?” Yuuri asked, leaning up against VIktor as he took a drink from his water bottle. “He skates closer and then yells something in Russian at me and skates away again.” He flushed a little. “I know it’s some sort of insult because he yelled it when we first met, but now it’s just…” he shrugged. “What did I do?” 

 

He had thought that the two of them had been getting along better; he had even dropped the ‘Yurio’ nickname to try and mend fences, but it seemed to have gotten worse after that. 

 

“Because you’re being distant,” VIktor said, smiling down at him and kissing the tip of his nose. “He thinks that you’re not even trying to be his friend anymore and he’s tried with  _ you _ . So of course, he’s going to be angry and call you unhappy names.”

 

“But--” Yuuri stared at him, distressed. It wasn’t as if he had even seen Yuri all that much; there were moments when the entire group went out, Mila and Georgi included, and there was teasing and laughter and jokes all in Russian that Yuuri was almost getting a handle on. Yuri only spoke to him in curt English and a lot of it was little jibes and insults, or rolling his eyes when Yuuri tried to use bits of Russian. “What do you mean? I … I haven’t said anything to him that could show that…”

 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Viktor suggested, eyeing the cross looking teenager that was doing jumps with Yakov, his entire focus on the landings, rather than his and Yuuri’s conversation. “Practice is almost over and if you ask him first, he might be surprised enough to give you an honest answer.”

 

Yuuri sighed and nodded, leaning up on his toe picks to give VIktor a soft kiss. “You’re right,” he said. “I don’t like going back to square one when I thought we had gotten so far.” He made a face. “You already know the reason, don’t you?” he accused.

 

Viktor laughed as he ruffled his hair. “Yep, I do,” he beamed, “but think of it as a lesson in Russian when you ask him and he tells you what you did wrong. I know you’d figure it out eventually, but hearing it from him might actually make it mean more.”

 

~

 

Yuuri wasn’t sure that he was hearing Yuri correctly when the younger skater cornered him in the hallway after practice. “...what was that?” he asked, looking around as if for confirmation, but it was only him and Yuri.

 

“I said,” Yuri bit out, face red and teeth clenched, “You don’t have to be such an ass, calling me by my name”  He crossed his arms against his chest and looked away. “It’s not that strange,” he muttered, at Yuuri’s bewildered look. “We’re rinkmates and I  _ thought _ we were friends.” 

 

“I thought… that you didn’t like the Yurio name,” Yuuri said finally, a few pieces clicking into place. Yuri had gotten more aggressively angry after Yuuri called him by his name and there has been moments of a sort of quiet expectation, but then…

 

“Not that weird name,” Yuri rolled his eyes and poked Yuuri in the chest, hard. “Open up your ears,” he snapped. “What do you hear the others calling me, huh? Yuri’s for people that don’t know me.” The tips of his ears went red. “You can call me Yura, you know.”

 

“I… I didn’t think,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. He knew that Yakov called Viktor, “Vitya” and that Viktor had a plethora of Russian endearments he called Yuuri. The rest of the pieces clicked into place and Yuuri thought back to VIktor’s comment about it meaning more if Yuri said it. For Yuri to give permission to say a more casual form of his name meant that  _ Yuri _ considered him an actual friend, moreso than the rival or annoyance that he had painted him as over the last year. 

 

“Well, it’s not the same in Japanese,” Yuuri said carefully, “but we have our own way of saying we’re friends.” Some of that meaning had been lost when in America; no one used his last name except the Japanese reporters or announcers. “But if you could call me something other than katsudon when we talk, I think I can count that as a start.” He held out his hand to Yuri, eyes bright and mischievous.  “Does it still count as two Yuris if one if called Yura?”

 

Yuri snorted and took his hand. “Yeah, but now I know at least you’re worthy of the name,” he smirked. There was a slight pause. “Yuuri.”

 

Viktor watched from around the corner, MIla and Georgi pressed against his back as they listened to the two having their conversation, Mila discreetly filming the whole thing with her cell phone. “Our little Yura, growing up and learning how to make friends.” 

  
  
  
  



	2. Unspoken Words (Things You Said, But Not Out Loud)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri thinks about what he should say and what he actually means

****  
  


It was quiet on the beach, only the sound of the waves crashing against each other lessened the silence of the night. Yuuri had so much that he wanted to say that his chest was tight with it, but he was afraid of speaking the words lodged inside.

_I’ve been a fan forever…._  That was easier and something he could say; but he was certain that Viktor always heard that and from everyone. He was Viktor Nikiforov and the whole figure skating world was his fan. _I’ve been watching you skate since I was twelve and you inspired me._  Those were words that Viktor was probably used to and tired of and Yuuri wanted to say more, but wasn’t sure if he was allowed to. He had almost lost Viktor with the competition he and Yuri had and it wasn’t the loss of a coach or his idol, but Viktor himself.

He watched Viktor’s profile, pale hair shining dimly from the light of the moon, skin pale in the dark. It wasn’t even that Viktor was beautiful to look at, with his fine features and slim figure, of his graceful movements on the ice. It was the wide smiles he gave when Yuuri gave him some piece of knowledge of Hasetsu, like with their ninja castle. With his exuberant laughter at Makkachin stealing one of Yuuri’s socks and running circles around the inn. Watching the triplets skate and giving them pointers and lifting them up in spins until half the children learning to skate at the rink begged for a turn as well

It was how Viktor listened to him and even if they had a rocky start to it all, Viktor understood him and where to push and prod and pull, never letting Yuuri sink too far into himself to let himself just glide by without pushing even further. Viktor, who admired him and his skating and dance; who sat in Minako’s studio for hours, watching him practice familiar steps that had long ago engraved themselves into his core. Viktor that fit so well into his family from the beginning, a place that hadn’t seemed empty before, but grew without any problem to enclose him into the Katsuki family.

_I don’t want you to ever leave. Stay by me forever…_  those words burned in his throat; words that he didn’t know if he could ever say. What right did he have to keep Viktor by him, when the rest of the world was waiting for him to return?  _I want you with me, I …_   even his brain wouldn’t let him finish the thought of how he felt for Viktor. It was like champagne bubbles in his brain, heady and strong and completely overwhelming. It was a rush and it was all too fast– Mari had lectured him about falling in love with his idol, but he wasn’t sure that was what Viktor was anymore, precisely.

_Show me more of who you are and I’ll show you what I’m afraid to show anyone else._  He was aware that Viktor acted differently around him, shedding the public persona that even Yuuri was wont to display at times. It was easier to hide your anxiety and worries under bright smiles and sputtered words for future hopes. Viktor-at-home with his family and Makkachin was a different person entirely than the Viktor that was cornered by reporters, all of them demanding to know when Viktor was coming back or why he decided to coach instead of defending his title.

_I’ll protect you from the world, just stay by my side_.  He wanted to keep Viktor’s smiles true. He opened his mouth to say at least something of what he meant, but his words dried up when Viktor turned to him, a question in his eyes.  Yuuri could only smile back in return and hold out a hand.

“Let’s go home?” he asked and he was rewarded with the wide, heart-shaped smile of Viktor’s as his fingers clasped around Yuuri’s hand. Some things didn’t need to be said.


	3. All I Want...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [Crimson Chains](http://crimson-chains.tumblr.com), who wanted Victuuri fluff. <3

“Yuuuuuri.” Victor’s voice was cajoling.  “Why won't you tell me what you want for your birthday?” he asked. “I want to give you something special.” The two of them were pressed together on the couch, Victor’s arms wrapped around Yuuri and face pressed into the side of his neck. The pleading in his eyes could rival Makkachin begging for a treat.  

 

“You've already given me so much, Victor,” Yuuri protested. His hands slid under the soft sweater that Victor wore, warming his hands. “There were the new skates, the suit that we went to that fancy store for….and everytime we get a hotel room, you make sure it's upgraded and private.”

 

Victor gave him a wink at that last one, wiggling into Yuuri’s touch. “Why can't I have a bit of privacy with you?” he teased.  “It's too my advantage, too.” He loved giving Yuuri the privacy he craved during competitions to ease his nerves. “How can I have my skater going out if he's not on the best bed?”

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes at that, but he could concede that point. It still didn't mean that Victor wasn't over extravagant at times. “Still, they were gifts,” he pointed out.  

 

“But not  _ birthday _ gifts,” Victor protested. 

 

Yuuri gave him a kiss on the cheek, removing his hands to smooth back Victor’s hair.  “When you let me buy you gifts, then you can buy me a birthday gift.”

 

Victor gave a slight whine at the loss of Yuuri’s hands and tried to fix it by wiggling even closer, practically sitting on Yuuri’s lap. “But you already gave me yourself, Yuuri. “You surprised me with the best gift, giving  me this beautiful ring and your love. How could I ask for anything else that could compare to that?”

 

Predictably, Yuuri’s cheeks turned bright red at the loving words murmured into the skin of his throat. He hadn't consciously thought about how giving Victor a ring meant he was proposing, even if his heart had wanted it for so long.  He moved to hide his face in Victor’s chest, trying to cool his burning cheeks, mumbling his next words into his clothes.

 

“I just want to get something for  _ us _ , for our home.” His words were muffled and Victor pulled him up to hear him better, eyes already shining. “It would...I mean… our first thing together.” He was still red, but the idea of them sharing a home and a life together made everything warm and he couldn't keep the happiness out of his voice. 

 

Victor hugged him so enthusiastically at the words that he tipped them both over off the couch, landing on his back with Yuuri on top of him. He waved away Yuuri’s worry, hugging him close. “Anything,” he promised.  “No matter if it's soup pots or a broom.  It will be ours, together.”

 

Yuuri pressed his forehead against Victor’s, a soft smile on his face. He didn't need anything special. He already had what he wanted. 

  
  



	4. Only the Seasons Have to Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [Thehobbem](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Thehobbem/), who wanted Yuri and Yuuri, retired and working as coaches.

Yuuri watched the skaters in front of him, lost in thought. It wasn’t that long ago that he was one of the skaters; training and struggling and trying to win a place to the top of the podium. He wasn’t on the ice now and he wouldn’t be unless he was running his student through _ their  _ program and helping them perfect a skate that would win  _ them _ gold. 

 

“Sucks not being out on the ice like that anymore, huh?” A familiar voice spoke next to him and Yuuri turned around, a wide smile spreading across his face. “If you didn’t become a coach, I’m sure you could have convinced the ISU to let you skate for a few more years.” 

 

“Like you didn’t stop skating and become one yourself,” Yuuri turned to smile at Yuri, shaking his head. “It’s funny, but out of all the people, I never thought _ you’d _ take up coaching.” He ignored the scowl, continuing with his teasing. “You were already the youngest senior to win a gold medal;  I thought you’d be trying to win gold until you were an  _ actual _ senior.” 

 

“No, that was the old man,” Yuri scoffed, but he leaned forward, resting his arms against the barrier. “I wasn’t going to completely trash myself for future skating, even if it wasn’t on the Grand Prix circuit.” His expression was wistful as well, despite his words. There was something undefinable about the push and pull of every season, every practice and dance that pitted you against people just as dedicated and crazy as you were. 

 

“Victor didn’t push himself for that much longer,” he protested, but there was a faint smile on his face. “Only the one year and that was because he wanted to have fun skating again, when the stakes weren’t as high.” 

 

“Then he should have joined an ice show,” Yuri grumbled. “He screwed you both over when he flipped between coaching and skating and you know it,” he said, poking a finger hard into Yuuri’s chest. “Don’t go defending him when you know how much more he could have done if he had chosen either way.” He huffed and crossed his arms against his chest. “I waited until I was ready to quit before taking on a student.”

 

“And you know they were scrambling over themselves to get yelled at on a daily basis by the infamous Yuri Plisetsky.”  Yuuri laughed, side stepping the accusation. It had been worth it, to see Victor skate again, with a smile on his face, like the weight of the world had fallen from his shoulders. He was no longer trying to uphold his titles, not after Yuri and Yuuri had snatched them from him. “Do they actually listen to you?”

 

“They do if they don’t want a skate up their ass,” Yuri muttered, but his gaze shifted again to one of the skaters, doing tight, fast spins in the center of the ice. It was clear that even with all the sharp words, he was proud of the skater that he was training. There was something to be said for leading the next generation into winning. 

 

“Same as ever,” Yuuri laughed, running a hand through his hair. The music that had been playing over the speakers came to a halt as the announcement that the practice time for the skaters was coming to a close. He couldn’t help one last tease. “You know my skater is going to be the one at the top of the podium, right?”

 

Yuri’s expression lit up at the challenge, bright and happy at the words. “You wish, katsudon. Whether it’s me or my skaters, I’m still going to kick your ass.” 

 

“You say that every time, Yura,” Yuuri’s expression was amused as both of their skaters came up to exit, exchanging questioning looks. “You’ll see, I have more experience than you and I know my skater’s going to win.” 

 

“Yeah, you had more experience when I first snatched gold from you when I was fifteen.” Yuri smirked, holding out a hand to Yuuri. “I’ll name my prize,  _ after  _ my skater wins gold.” 

 

“You’re on.” Yuuri shook his hand, before handing the blade guards to his skater, who was just shaking his head and Yuuri could have sworn he heard the words, ‘same as ever’ before he let Yuuri lead him away. He looked back once to see Yuri guiding his own skater away, gesturing wildly as he talked. He had missed this; the rivalry that came on the ice. It hadn’t been the same after he retired and Yuri continued to skate. Now that they were on the same level again, he was eager to see where it would go. 


	5. Coolness is What it Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [Sammybunny711](https://sammybunny711.tumblr.com/) who wanted Otayuri friendship

Otabek stared at Yuri, trying to keep most of the surprise from his face. Yuri might take it the wrong way and it wasn’t his intention. He was a little baffled, but it somehow fit him so well that he should have already known. 

 

Yuri caught some of the confusion, because his shoulders hunched. “It’s a fun thing to do,” he pointed out, scowling a little. “No one thinks of the person who starts that sort of shit and it’s fun to see the reactions.”  He had fun finding pictures of cat in unusual or funny positions, and making up reasons for them being there. He would kill anyone else that found out that he did it. 

 

“Huh, not surprised,” Otabek finally said. “I don’t see that many of them, but I’m also not searching out that sort of thing. When I have time on my computer, I’m pulling apart all sorts of music and revamping it for mixes.” He hunched his shoulders a little. “Not many people picking it up, but I’ve been focusing more on skating, too.” 

 

“That’s so cool, though!” Yuri protested. “You could mix your own routines, you could do something totally cool and unique--” he smiled widely. “Like with you doing the dj stuff at the club. You get to see all sorts of cool people and fashion--”

 

“Well, it’s not the only thing I do,” Otabek admitted. Skating didn’t leave a lot of room for other hobbies and sometimes, somehow, it all it inevitably tied back into the sport. “I dance,” he said, and when Yuri looked ready to dismiss that-- _ every  _ skater did some sort of dance, Otabek continued, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “With swords.” 

 

Yuri sat up straight, mouth dropping open. “That’s the coolest!” he protested. “I want to learn how to do that-- where did you learn? Do you have a video?” he demanded. 

 

Otabek laughed and pulled out his phone, nodding. “I started doing it when ballet wasn’t working out,” he said. “Builds up a lot of muscles as well.” He sat next to Yuri, pressing play on the video, showing his class working out the different steps. He felt a flush of pride at Yuri’s excited gasps at the fire that came along with the swords. 

 

“Damn, that’s just too cool,” he protested. “Lilia and Yakov would kill me if I tried something like that.” He didn’t mind ballet-- he could still kick people without any effort with the strength it provided him and he would admit to himself he liked the grace it lent him and his routines. 

 

“What else are you into, Yuri?” he asked, putting away his phone. He wanted to get the chance to know as much as he could about him. They didn’t have much time before the season would pull them in different directions, with different camps and routines and venues to skate at. 

 

Yuri shrugged a little. “Nothing as cool as fire and swords,” he huffed. “But I cook, or else Yakov and Lilia would starve.” He rolled his eyes, getting into it without any encouragement. “They try and make me eat all this bland shit and  _ god _ , they didn’t know how to make anything taste good.” It seemed so  _ boring _ compared to Otabek’s stuff. 

 

“You could always work in one of those kitchens where they set stuff on fire and throws knives around before cooking,” Otabek suggested. He could see the mainical glee on Yuri’s face as he scared a table full of diners before giving them something that tasted amazing. 

 

Yuri brightened at that. “Yeah, that’ll be awesome! I could have some sick music playing in the background and lots of cool stuff and yeah-- you could even be a dj in my new club.” 

 

“You’ve already got yourself a club and staff?” Otabek had to laugh. When Yuri wanted something, he jumped over every hurdle in the way to land feet first at the finish line, no matter what goal he was aiming for. 

 

“Yeah and it can be right next to the ice rink,” he decided,” already seeing tiger prints on the wall and snarling cats decorating the doors and tables. “That way I can still skate and win everything and then scare everyone with my awesome cooking skills.” 

 

“You’ll have to show me sometime,” Otabek reached out a hand and Yuri nodded, beaming. 

 

“You’ll be the first,” he promised. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Send me a [Prompt](http://stars-glow-for-you.tumblr.com/post/166782028559/prompts-1-things-you-said-at-1-am-2-things)!


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